Working on Living

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Yesterday was a hard day. I finished reading What My Father and I Don’t Talk About. It was a great read of 16 writers’ essays on their fathers. However, it left me feeling more melancholic than usual. I would still like to read What My Mother and I Don’t Talk About though we had talked plenty. I am sure that she had not told me everything. Now, I can’t ask her. I am still travelling in the landscape of the bereaved. Some days are harder than others. The heat and humidity made it harder yesterday. I know that life goes on no matter how I feel. The world still spins on its axis. The sun still rise and set each day. And so must I – rise to the challenges of living and then rest when tired.

I took my father out for lunch yesterday. I didn’t realize it was Canada Day but it worked out well. At least I can say that’s how I celebrated our country’s birthday when people ask. I’m not big on celebrations. I am a true humbug. I think that came from being an immigrate child of immigrants. We were poor starting out in this country. We didn’t celebrate birthdays, Christmas, New Year, Easter, and Thanksgiving like everybody else. On Canada Day, we didn’t join in the town’s festivities. So I do think that as a child, I must have felt left out, odd, not belonging, etc. etc.

I tried hard yesterday not to languish in my melancholia. I tackled 2 bags of my mother’s clothes laying dormant on the basement floor. It wasn’t too bad, not worsening my mood. The clothes stirred up some good and happy memories of mom in her younger years. Now, I see her vibrant and happy in my mind’s eye. For me, sorting the 2 bags was a big accomplishment and enough for one day.

Today, I am feeling better. The heat is still on but there’s not the humidity/heaviness weighing me down. There is a breeze. I am okay. I went to the gym this morning. Worked the weights. Worked on skipping techniques. Worked on hula hooping. I can talk and hula at the same time. Now to hula while walking. That’s another thing. So meanwhile I am working on feeling social and feeling good. I’m going to sock it to life.

PS. I am also working on the Ultimate Blog Challenge.

July Writing Challenges

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July 1, another new day, another new month. The morning is getting on and I’ve been tarrying with my morning tea and reading What My Father and I Don’t Talk About. 16 writers talk about their relationships with their father. It’s so speaks to me right now as I navigate my own journey with my father after the passing of my mother in October of last year. It’s been a difficult journey. Perhaps I will write about some of that during this July’s Ultimate Blog Challenge.

I’ve lost track of time and if not reminded of it by a UBC friend, I would have been late coming to the UBC party. I thought June has 31 days. I hope to show up here every day for July with a new post. I’ve participated for quite a few years. I’ve never planned on what I am writing. I just show up at the keyboard and hope for the best. Mostly it is just about my mundane every day life- moans and groans, gardening, arting and what I’ve been reading.

Perhaps I can make some changes, gives some thoughts and do a bit of planning. I am going to keep it easy and simple. There’s more likelihood of me succeeding if I do. I am happy to be in this writing community to learn and share. Happy writing everyone.

Pushing Through

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I’m feeling my fragility this morning. I’m afraid to go there, not even knowing where ‘there’ is. It’s well known it’s not good to watch the news before bedtime. It applies to reading news posts on social media with my morning tea, too. I’m greatly disturbed by 2 articles this morning. The first one on Mads Mikklesen, a Norweigan tourist being blocked from entering the U.S. The 2nd story involves an unprovoked attack on an Afghan toddler in Moscow airport.

I really don’t have the time or energy for this but it’s hard to avoid or resist bad news. My human nature of curiosity gets the best of me and I investigate further into the story of John Hunt even though it added to my distress and worsen my mental health. If I am to live in this world, I have to be awake to it all. Let me be a big girl, grow up and develop a strong backbone. I can do it.

It’s taking me time to write this post. There’s so much to do. I’m so weighed down with all my feelings. The only thing to do is push, push and push through despite everything. So I’ve paid this month’s bills and swept the sunroom floor. Though I was sagging with emotions and the humidity from our weird thunder and rain storms, I’ve repotted 4 of my mother’s house plants. It felt good to seem the plants perk up after. In between raindrops, I planted a row of coneflowers and a few marigolds in mom’s/dad’s frontyard flowerbed.

It didn’t feel so hard after everything was said and done. I was tired and sweaty but happy. I loaded the wheelchair and got my father into the car and off we went to the mall for a leisurely stroll and coffee.

Why I Keep Writing 2

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I would never run out of words on why I keep writing. I write mostly to comfort myself. It’s my soother/pacifier. I never had one as a baby but I probably used my thumb as most babies do. It’s very satisfying. My keyboard/pen and paper are at hand. I’m not dependent on someone else to make me feel better. My experience has been that when I most need help/an ear, no one is available, adding to my distress. It’s no one’s fault.

I’m on a stretch of good days. They came with the rain we’ve had the last few days. We are all connected. What is in one is in the whole, as Caroline Myss says. I’m taking advantage of this easeful flow of energy. Somethimes these moments are fleeting. They could be gone with the next cloud, after lunch. There are no guarantees. I’m making an early start to my day before my head and mind gets polluted and distracted with this and that.

I had a few words here to kickstart a post, took out 2 bags for the garbage and made a start of baking bread. The bread took all morning and a bit into the afternoon. The 6 loaves are cooling on racks. The pans are washed and drying in the still warm oven. My energy and mood are dipping. I am happy with my morning’s work. I will take my father out to the mall for a walk and a coffee. He is worried that he is costing me time and gas. He said he had a dream the other night that my mother gave him heck for causing so much trouble.

That is/was my mother, fiercely independent, not good at accepting help. She didn’t want to make things harder for us by taking up our time. It was difficult to make her understand that she made things harder by not accepting our help. That was how she was and I had to accept it. My father is more receptive and appreciates my company.

I ran out of energy yesterday to finish this post. I’ve lost the flow and good cheer. No two days are equal. The sun is shining. It looks and feels like summer. We had some excitement to start the morning. There was 4 police cars parked along our street. No sirens but I saw a policeman entering a yard a few houses down with a rifle poised over his shoulder, just like on TV. We heard no gunshots. We saw no activity before we left for the gym.

Why I keep writing

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Here I am again at my keyboard, still tapping, looking for words, thoughts, wisdom. I’m not 100% successful being present. I do my best, always feeling better for my efforts. That is the reason I keep coming back and coming back. I know a good thing by the way I feel. It’s hard to be 100%. Don’t we know it! Even when they predict 100% chance of rain, it doesn’t happen. So I don’t give myself a hard time when I lapse. I get back as soon as I can.

I enjoy the feel of the keys beneath my fingertips. I like watching the letters march across the screen. I’m euphoric when the thoughts and words fly and flow from my fingertips as if writing themselves. Long deep sighs of contentment escape from me. Life feels beautiful then, no matter the weather outside. I’m in my own garden of Eden then.

The weather app says it is drizzling but not here yet.There’s 85% chance of rain at 12 noon, in 15 minutes. We shall see. The sky is grey. I’m feeling good. Been to the gym though didn’t work out that hard but something is better than nothing, right?

It is evening now. It did not rain at noon but we did some lightning, thunder and rain in late,late afternoon. It was glorious. I quite enjoyed it all. The sky was very dark. I had to turn on the lights in the sunroom to read. I felt very safe and cosy, curled up with a book. One must read to write.

Sunday Morning Chatter

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A cool grey Sunday morning. We turned the furnace on. It rained most of the day yesterday. Our water catchments filled to overflowing. The garden is quenched. I am feeling relaxed. The sun is trying to shine through the clouds, casting a pale light before disappearing again. I am trying to move forward though I am still living in sweat pants. Why not? They are soft and comfortable with deep pockets. I have no fancy places to go to.

I will head out to the greenhouse later this morning. It’s time to take down the snowpeas and give the space over to other plants. Though there are still peas coming, some of the leaves are turning yellow. The aphids are at them. Taking them down might rid the aphids. I still have a sweet one million tomato waiting as well as 2 bitter melons. I will try out a couple of brussels sprouts as they will grow too tall for the covered raised bed outside. There’s less chance of cabbage butterflies visiting the greenhouse.

My days are always busy. There’s always the yard and garden. There’s my father to visit. It’s a routine now to take him to a mall to walk and have a coffee. On days when we miss, it doesn’t feel quite right. I would feel fidgety with discomfort. It’s strange how we didn’t have much of a relationship till now, after my mother died. I gave all my love and attention to my mother. Maybe it is the times and their generation. It’s the mothers that did the bonding and nurturing. Then there’s the fact that we’re immigrants. My father left China when I was a baby. I didn’t meet him again till I was 6 when we reunited in Hong Kong for a year. Then he returned to Canada. It was almost 2 years before our family was united again.

Life is a complicated journey. I think if we knew better, we would have done better. I consider myself lucky I still have this time with my father to hear his stories. The other day I found this book called What My Father and I Don’t Talk About. I think the book found me. Someone/something knows what I need in these times. It’s funny how these things happen just what and when we need them.

Reboot, Restart

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A grey drizzling kind of morning. Grateful to have a few of these days lately. Not alot of rainfall but all our water catchments are full. These mornings this spring/summer have been strange. They are still dark at 5/6 am whereas in normal times, I’m awaken by the sunlight already. It is what we have now. There is nothing to do but to carry on.

I made a tour of the greenhouse and garden while waiting for breakfast. The greenhouse is not exactly thriving. No crazy vines climbing to the roof yet. The snowpeas and lettuce were big performers in early spring. The lettuce have been removed for other things. The snowpeas are still performing but the leaves are turning colour. Don’t know whether it is their time or because of aphids. They’ve been causing trouble especially with the peppers and bitter melon. The peppers have made a slow recovery in the raised bed outside. I’m not so sure if I will get any bitter melons this year even though I’ve started and planted new ones. Time will tell.

I’m trying to make small changes in my morning routine to give myself a boost. I’ve stopped writing morning pages. They were not helping. I was focusing too much on my feelings and symptons. I was making deeper ruts to sink in. I see no harm in playing Spelling Bee and Wordle. They are relaxing and maybe exercising my brain a little. I have not been too successful with my goals for June. Not making a regular show on my keyboard might have something to do with it.

Some days are hard and I lose focus. Life is busy. There’s work everywhere. Sometimes I get overwhelmed. I tell myself it’s ok to stop and just hunker down. I just have to remember to push the RESTART button again and again. I’m still on top of the Daisy Yellow Index Card a Day Challenge. I didn’t get very far reading War and Peace but I can get back to it – later.

How It Is

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It rained overnight and is raining still. The garden is drinking it all up. It pays to have patience and faith that our world will survive. I also must have patience and faith that I, too, will survive. Tomorrow will be 8 months that my mother have left us. We are grateful we’ve had her for so long, but it’s never enough. Though I knew her time was near, I didn’t know how to prepare. And how does one do that anyways until it happened?

So I’m piddling along as best as I can. Some days I do/try better/harder than others. Some days I like to completely chill and do nothing. I haven’t been good at that for a very long time. There’s part of me that always want to ‘fix’ and make it better. That’s not bad, I suppose, because it means I’m always hopeful, always seeking. I’m not good at moping though I often feel mopeful. I should really learn not to brood/think so much.

It is both true and false that it gets better with time. But really. When someone as significant as your mother disappears from your life, how do you navigate that? I am a bit lost in this first year of strangeness. Some days are good. Some days are not at all. And that’s how it is with me. Regardless of how the days are, I’ve been alright and functional. For someone who gets lost all the time, I’ve been able to drive myself and my father to and from coffee every day. Most of the time it’s just down the street to the mall.

Clouds

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Clouds got in my way for a few days. I’m struggling to find my way back. It’s difficult. I’ve lost my momentum and rhythm. Joni Mitchell’s Both Sides Now is one of my favourite songs. It speaks so true about how clouds are for me. I’ve been very much feeling them the last few days. It helps to know that I’m not the only one. For a long time, I’ve felt somewhat defective, an odd ball, a failure being this way. It’s hard to believe that we are all the same. We are. We are all human.

The clouds have at last delivered. It rained. I should say showered. It lasted only a few minutes. The sun is trying to come through. I should be grateful. And I am.

  1. I am grateful for any rain that fell.
  2. I am grateful that there are no smoke in the air.
  3. I am grateful that some of the clouds are lifting.
  4. I am grateful that I am still here, tapping a few words on my keyboard.
  5. I am grateful for Joni Mitchell’s song, Both Sides Now.
  6. I am grateful I can still feel gratitude.

Both Sides Now – Joni Mitchell

Rows and floes of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere
Looked at clouds that way

But now they only block the sun
They rain and they snow on everyone
So many things I would have done
But clouds got in my way

I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down and still somehow
It’s cloud illusions I recall
I really don’t know clouds at all

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels
The dizzy dancing way that you feel
As every fairy tale comes real
I’ve looked at love that way

But now it’s just another show
And you leave ’em laughing when you go
And if you care, don’t let them know
Don’t give yourself away

I’ve looked at love from both sides now
From give and take and still somehow
It’s love’s illusions that I recall
I really don’t know love
I really don’t know love at all

Tears and fears and feeling proud
To say, “I love you, ” right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I’ve looked at life that way

Oh, but now old friends, they’re acting strange
And they shake their heads and they tell me that I’ve changed
Well, something’s lost, but something’s gained
In living every day

I’ve looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It’s life’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know life at all

It’s life’s illusions that I recall
I really don’t know life
I really don’t know life at all

No Other way

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It’s another cool and grey morning with the sun trying its hardness to shine through. At least there is no smoke in the air. I still find no reason to smile and feel peppy. I’m having another cup of tea. Maybe I’ll get out of my pjs. Just because the world and life is not as I desire, it’s no reason to mope either. I can try a little, do a little and live a little, bit by bit.

So I’ve gotten out of my pjs into something summery. I’ve been living in sweat pants and t-shirts. They were easy and comfortable. Being a cool spring/summer they were the ticket. I wore them everywhere – to the gym, out for lunch, to the mall, to the garden. Being a sad sack, I didn’t care. I wasn’t fussy about my appearance. But I still shower, brush my teeth and comb my hair once in a while.

June was intended to work on my habits, improving on them and reporting here regularly. It didn’t happened quite often enough. I hit a slump. The weather was bad. There was/is wildfire smoke. And a million other excuses. Now I’m trying to reboot and restart. Not easy. Not feeling like or up to it. Nevertheless, I will just do it. There’s no other way. I will have to stop being a cry baby.